


Four Minutes

by Proudmoore (firemedicdiaz)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Buck Whump, Eddie "conceal don't feel" Diaz, Introspection, M/M, unspoken feelings, vulnerable eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29288310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firemedicdiaz/pseuds/Proudmoore
Summary: In the wake of the explosion, Eddie feels like the four minute trip to the hospital both spans an eternity and no time at all.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 301
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	1. Chapter 1

“ _ Hospital is four minutes away, okay? Come on. _ ”

Hen’s words were meant for Buck, but Eddie knew they’d be of little comfort as Buck slipped in and out of consciousness. He could only imagine the pain Buck must have been feeling, and even just the thought of it was exhausting. He couldn’t imagine living it.

It took only seconds for them to reach the ambulance, and Eddie stayed at Buck’s side as they loaded him into it. As he watched Buck’s eyelids flutter, he decided that four minutes simultaneously sounded like an eternity and no time at all. Time seemed to slip away, the seconds meaningless against the backdrop of his own frantic heartbeat. 

“Hang on, Buck, we’ve got you.”

The words didn’t seem to register, but the lurch of the ambulance as it started moving certainly did, drawing a raw, exhausted whimper of agony from Buck. Eddie reached out, giving Buck’s arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance before rolling the shutter down on his emotions. It was neither the time nor the place for any sort of sentiment if he had any hope of giving Buck his best chance at survival and recovery.

Tuning into the moment, Eddie instinctively started a secondary survey, looking for more subtle injuries as Hen got to work unbuttoning Buck’s shirt and applying monitor leads. Eddie ran practiced fingers through Buck’s hair, looking for lumps and bumps. His fingertips pressed on Buck’s collarbones, ribs, and sternum, eliciting no tenderness. Buck’s belly was soft, his pelvis was stable, and his arms and legs were no worse for wear aside from his badly crushed ankle. Eddie breathed a sigh of relief.

Eddie glanced up at the monitor as it came to life, capturing Buck’s too-quick, erratic heartbeat. Normal PR interval, no peaked T-waves, no obvious signs that a deadly flood of potassium from Buck’s badly crushed tissues was wreaking havoc on his heart. Not that it meant anything in the grand scheme of things; if Buck’s serum potassium rose too high too quickly, it might not cause any of the characteristic signs on his ECG. At least the bicarb Hen had given earlier seemed to be holding him at the moment.

Compartmentalizing his worry over a potential cardiac event, Eddie stood and reached for some splinting supplies. Stabilizing Buck’s leg wouldn’t relieve all of his pain but it would help, and with Hen already working on pain meds and monitoring, it was busy work that would help Eddie keep his mind off of how scared he was.

“ _ Three more minutes, Buck. We’re almost there. _ ”

Eddie was grateful for Hen’s dialogue. It helped him focus. He exchanged a glance with her as he slipped a speed splint under Buck’s injured leg, hoping she hadn’t noticed the way his hands were shaking. Eddie found that he didn’t care too much anyway as another groan of pain from Buck refocused him on the task at hand.

“Sorry, Buck,” Eddie murmured. “I just need to stabilize this fracture. I’ll be quick.”

Buck’s nod of understanding spurred Eddie on, and it wasn’t long before Buck’s leg was securely splinted. With that said and done there wasn’t much left to do and Eddie could feel the anxiety starting to press in on him, unwavering and unrelenting.

He reached out and clasped Buck’s hand, carefully avoiding the pulse ox clip on Buck’s index finger. He stroked his thumb over Buck’s knuckles in an attempt at reassurance that didn’t reach beyond the very surface. There were still too many variables to count on Buck being out of the woods, but he didn’t need Buck picking up on his concern.

“How’re you doing, Buck? Talk to me.”

“ _ Have an orthopedic surgeon on standby. Our ETA is two minutes _ .”

Eddie’s gaze left Buck’s face just long enough to watch Hen put down her mic after calling ahead to the hospital. 

“Hurts,” Buck breathed, his voice reedy.

Eddie’s attention returned to Buck and he squeezed Buck’s hand once more.

“I know, but it won’t hurt for much longer,” Eddie promised. “They’ll give you the really good stuff as soon as we get to the hospital.”

Buck made a wordless noise of acknowledgment before slipping back into a fitful unconsciousness. Eddie dropped his head, gritting his teeth together to ground himself. He couldn’t afford to open the floodgates right then. It didn’t matter that his best friend was injured, toeing a critical line. It didn’t matter that the one person he had left in his life besides Christopher who he shared a real, deep connection with was fighting for his life. It didn’t matter that he might never get the chance to explore the depth of that connection, of his feelings and Buck’s.

All the words Eddie had never had the chance to say were suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Every time he’d had the opportunity to do something, to act on his feelings, to tell Buck how damn much he loved him. Those unspoken words, unshared sentiments were like a weight on his chest and he reflexively reached up and pulled off his stethoscope, dropping it on the bench beside him to ease the feeling of claustrophobia that gripped him.

“Open your eyes,” Eddie urged him, his voice husky. “Don’t check out on us now, Buck.”

_ On us _ , because if he said  _ on me _ there would be no coming back from all those waiting feelings, their claws dug into him, a thousand pinpricks threatening to burst the tenuous hold he had on his self-control. 

“‘M fine,” Buck rasped. “I’ll be okay.”

Even through the haze of pain and morphine Buck was trying to be the hero. Eddie would have laughed if he wasn’t convinced the tears would come through, too. Instead, he squeezed Buck’s hand yet again, earning himself a weak but determined squeeze in return. A kind, reassuring gesture that almost broke him.

“ _ We’re one minute out _ .”

One more minute.

Eddie could hold on one more minute. His eyes flicked up to Buck’s chest and he watched the quick but steady rise and fall of Buck’s breathing. If Buck could get through this, so could he. He felt so stupid, so dramatic, but he’d never been particularly good at processing feelings, least of all when they were concerned with someone who mattered to him so deeply.

As Buck’s grip on his hand loosened, the draw of the morphine no doubt overwhelming him, Eddie slipped his fingertips up along Buck’s thumb, pressing them to Buck’s radial artery. His pulse was still too fast, unsteady, but it was strong and vital and grounding. Eddie focused on it, on the tactile reflection of Buck’s warrior spirit, willing his own heart to stop fluttering frantically behind his ribs like a frightened, caged bird.

Eddie’s head snapped up as the ambulance rolled to a stop, the back doors behind pulled open almost immediately by waiting hospital staff. Like the civilians at the scene that had helped them lift the truck to free Buck, doctors, nurses, and orderlies milled around, ready to step in and help, to take over and do their part.

Dropping Buck’s hand, Eddie stood and hopped out of the ambulance, unlocking the stretcher and pulling it out. The whole handover happened in the blink of an eye, and before he could so much as promise Buck that everything would be okay, he was gone. The hospital doors were sliding shut in the trauma team’s wake and Eddie was staring after them, all of the fight in his body gone now that his job was done.

Hen walked over, putting a hand on his shoulder, silently offering support. Distantly, Eddie knew that she’d been through the same thing he had, watching a friend go through what Buck had, but it wasn’t quite the same, he knew. She would call Karen, have her come down for support, for company, and what was Eddie going to do? Who was he going to call, to go home with at the end of the night? He’d be brave for Christopher, sure, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep so much as one wink with Buck in the hospital. 

Eddie could feel nausea well in the pit of his stomach. He could still smell the blood, the acrid tang of smoke and explosive residue from the scene. He could hear sirens in the distance as the rest of the team raced over to join them, but none of it really penetrated the fog of anxiety clouding his mind. As he stared blankly at the reflection of the ambulance’s flashing lights in the glass, Eddie couldn’t help but fear that those last four minutes, riding on the wings of words unsaid, would be the last they ever shared.


	2. Epilogue

Four minutes was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

It had passed in the blink of an eye compared to what had followed, and as he sat beside Buck’s bed keeping silent vigil, Eddie was reminded of just how bad he was at waiting. Perhaps more accurately, how bad he was at knowing when to  _ stop _ waiting. 

He’d almost lost Buck earlier that night. He’d watched the truck get thrown up into the air and consumed by flames, looked on as Buck was ejected from the cab only to be stopped before he could roll too far as the ladder pinned him at the ankle. He’d heard the blast, Buck’s screaming, the exhausted whimpers of agony and the frighteningly quiet staccato of Buck’s tired heart as he’d assessed him afterward. Eddie had tasted blood when his anxiety had threatened to overwhelm him and he’d bitten his cheek to stop the tears that stung his eyes.

Eddie had waited. He’d waited for the rest of the team to arrive and accompany him into the hospital even though he’d wanted nothing more than to chase the trauma team through the sliding doors, to cling onto the stretcher and not let Buck out of his sight. He’d waited for news from the OR, a cup of bitter, burnt coffee cooling in his hand as the ticking of the clock on the wall nearly drove him mad. He’d waited, albeit feeling a little less wound up than he had before, after the surgeon had come to tell them Buck was going to pull through. He’d waited as Buck woke up in recovery, alone, and was transferred to a private room for observation. He’d waited as everyone else went in to see Buck, just for a moment, to wish him well until Buck was so tired out he fell into a deep sleep.

With everyone gone, Eddie made his way into Buck’s room. The nurse that came by to check Buck’s vitals shortly after Eddie had settled into a chair next to Buck’s bed looked like she wanted to shoo him off, but for whatever reason she thought better of it and left him to his vigil. He settled into the hard plastic chair next to the bed and knotted his fingers in his lap to quell the desperate urge to reach out and hold Buck’s hand.

As Buck slept, snoring softly, Eddie watched the saline in the IV bag over Buck’s bed drip slowly into the drip chamber, his mind far away. He thought about the last time he’d waited on something and about how much it had cost him. He’d waited for weeks to let Shannon back into Christopher’s life. He’d pushed her away, compartmentalized his feelings, avoided the difficult conversations. In the end, by the time he’d decided he was ready to face her, to face the future, she’d had enough of the waiting. She’d moved on without him, or perhaps in spite of him.

And then she’d died right in front of him.

But it was different with Buck. It was different, and it had the potential to wind up being far worse. With Shannon, Eddie had gotten his feelings out, had left things in her hands, had  _ tried _ , and while it hadn’t absolved him of all of the hurt he’d caused her in the past, it had given him some measure of closure. With Buck, though, he hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even hinted that he had anything more than platonic feelings for him. He’d never given himself the chance - given Buck the chance - to pursue anything.

And then Buck had nearly died right in front of him.

His PTSD reared its ugly head at the reminder; the thought that it was all happening again was a wake-up call that threatened to pitch him into a panic attack. Eddie gritted his teeth, staring determinedly ahead, knowing that if he so much as blinked he would see Shannon’s lifeless body; of Buck’s body in her place. He fought to keep his breathing steady, glancing up at the monitor screen over Buck’s bed to help himself focus. It was hypnotizing watching the rhythmic dance of waveforms on Buck’s ECG as they appeared and disappeared again, and eventually Eddie felt himself settle a little bit. 

Buck was okay. He had a long road to recovery ahead of him, but he was okay, and Eddie was determined to be there for him, to walk that path with him. Eddie took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, turning his attention back to Buck. Buck’s features were slack, his lips slightly parted as he slept off the anaesthetic. He was breathing steadily and Eddie tried to breathe with him as a new and different but no less frightening set of emotions filled him. 

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped as Buck made a soft groaning noise. He jumped to his feet, planting his hands on the railing beside Buck’s bed, waiting for him to wake up. He wanted -  _ needed _ \- Buck to know he wasn’t alone. Eddie hated how long he’d been forced to stand back before running in to help Buck back at the scene and he wasn’t going to let another moment go by with Buck feeling like there was no one there when he needed them.

Eddie waited tensely for a few moments, his gaze fixed on Buck, but nothing changed. Buck was still asleep, clearly having made the noise unconsciously. Eddie sagged, relieved that he could put off the conversation he needed to have for just a little bit longer. He’d made up his mind, he was going to tell Buck, but it didn’t mean he was comfortable with the notion just yet. He’d never been particularly good at being vulnerable, and opening himself up to anyone, even Buck, was terrifying.

After a few minutes passed without any change in Buck’s condition, Eddie sat back down, shifting the chair slightly so he was closer to the bed. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool metal of the bed rail, closing his eyes. He was pleasantly surprised that instead of the horror show he was expecting to play out in his mind, there were some happy memories instead. The first time he’d seen Buck laugh the day they’d pulled the live grenade charge out of a man’s leg. It was the first time he’d seen Buck’s vulnerability, too. Sure, he could feel it rolling off the guy in waves with how threatened he’d been by Eddie’s mere presence at first, but the look they’d exchanged just before Eddie had grasped the ordnance to remove it had spoken volumes.

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s head snapped up at the sound of his name on Buck’s lips. He met the other man’s confused expression with a small smile, leaning in to help Buck focus through the morphine fog.

“Hey, welcome back,” Eddie said softly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fuzzy,” Buck replied, slurring slightly.

Eddie chuckled, reaching out before he could stop himself to fix the neckline of Buck’s gown where it had come undone and was sagging. He thought it might’ve been his imagination, but he could have sworn Buck had relaxed back into the bed a fraction as Eddie’s fingers brushed his shoulder. Emboldened by Buck’s apparent trust, Eddie reached for Buck’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Buck smiled, his eyes drifting closed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Buck murmured.

The words held so much meaning, but Eddie wasn’t ready to let himself hope that he was reading it correctly.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be more than here right now,” Eddie assured him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, still floored by Buck’s selflessness even though it was already one of the things he loved most about the other man.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eddie chided him gently. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Buck blinked a couple of times to clear his vision, glancing down at his splinted leg. He wiggled his toes, wincing as it caused pain to flare in his ankle.

“Mostly okay, anyway,” Buck amended.

As Buck turned to meet Eddie’s gaze, Eddie felt an uncomfortable swell in his vulnerability. He was looking for an excuse, any excuse, to look away when the IV pump next to the bed sounded an alarm, startling both of them. Taking the chance to break eye contact, Eddie let go of Buck’s hand and stood, popping open the infusion chamber on the pump and carefully tapping at a single small air bubble that had been obscuring the sensor. The pump fell silent again and Eddie closed the chamber back up, deciding to stay standing because it made him feel a little less claustrophobic.

Hazarding a glance down, Eddie found Buck watching him. Buck’s expression was thoughtful, calculating but blunted by the lingering cobwebs of the anaesthesia and pain medication. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie saw Buck’s hand come up; a sign for him to take it again. Eddie chewed his lip for a moment before relenting and taking a seat again, reaching out once more for Buck’s hand.

“Are  _ you _ okay?” Buck asked.

Eddie shook his head, smiling a little incredulously.

“You had a ladder truck dropped on your ankle a few hours ago and you’re asking if  _ I’m _ okay,” he reiterated.

Buck shrugged, squeezing Eddie’s hand, stroking a thumb over the back of it.

“I can tell something’s on your mind,” Buck explained lightly. “My leg may be broken, but my empathy still works. What’s going on?”

Eddie set his jaw, glancing away for a moment again to strengthen his resolve. He wasn’t sure he could look at Buck when he said it. He didn’t think he could bear being face to face if Buck didn’t return his feelings. Reflecting back on everything that had happened that night, though, he borrowed strength from Buck’s show of courage, will, and resilience.

“This, all of it, scared me so badly because I didn’t know if you were going to make it, and that I wouldn’t get the chance to tell you,” Eddie said in a rush, his words nearly garbled by his haste to say them before his determination dried up. He hadn’t planned on leading with an outright confession when he finally found the courage to admit his feelings, but he’d been too shaken by nearly losing Buck to wait a moment longer or pussyfoot around. “I love you.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the suddenly faster chirping of Buck’s heart monitor. Eddie frowned, concerned by the new onset of tachycardia, his mind combing through possible causes for it - pain, pulmonary embolism, anaphylactic reaction to one of his medications. Buck squeezed his hand again, insistently, and Eddie forced himself to look Buck in the eye.

“You served multiple tours in an active war zone, you rappel down cliffs, you run into burning buildings when everyone else is running out,” Buck said, a quiet incredulity weighing on his words. “But you were afraid to tell me you love me?”

Eddie’s entire world nearly crashed down at that moment as Buck’s glaringly obvious failure to return the sentiment hung in the air between them. His own heart rate skyrocketed and a strong feeling of fight-or-flight gripped him. Buck’s soft, wordless noise of disbelief did nothing to help his nerves.

“Eddie,” Buck said so softly that Eddie thought he might crack. “I love you, too.”

Eddie couldn’t hear anything over the rush of his own heartbeat in his ears for a moment as Buck’s words registered. It took him several long seconds to process what just happened and when he did, he could barely believe it. 

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice reedy, strained.

Buck chuckled, propping himself on an elbow in an attempt to get closer to Eddie.

“Yeah,” he assured him emphatically. “Yeah.”

The tears came then and Eddie had not been expecting them. Relief wasn’t something he was used to crying over, but he hadn’t realized until that moment the enormity of the weight that had been on his shoulders as he’d carried those words unsaid around with him. He laughed softly, almost slightly hysterically, and let out a long, shaky breath.

“Come here,” Buck said gently, patting the bed beside him.

Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice. He stood, letting go of Buck’s hand just long enough to drop the bed rail before perching himself on the edge of the mattress. Buck’s palm landed on his thigh, its weight warm and grounding, and Eddie covered it with a hand of his own. They sat in a companionable silence for a while, Buck’s eyes fluttering closed as the exhaustion from the day’s events caught up with him and Eddie watching him closely, memorizing his face, the moment, replacing the fear and anxiety from earlier with something decidedly better. 

“Glad we had this talk,” Buck said thickly a while later, his head lolling as the morphine reared its head again. 

Eddie chuckled, reaching out to tuck Buck’s blankets in around him to keep him comfortable while he slept. He reached up, brushing a loose curl away from Buck’s forehead, trailing his fingertips down Buck’s cheek, cupping his face gently.

“Me too.”


End file.
